Leith, William by The Hungry Years Read Free Book Online Page B

of quiet privacy. For one thing, you could not just walk in off the street you had to ring a bell. Also, there were no communal changing-rooms. Is this, I wondered, the thin end of the wedge of prejudice that Bovey had described? No, I thought. It's simple sensitivity.
    Teague didn't look exactly fat; being moderately tall, her minor bulk made her look statuesque. 'Well,' she told me, 'I am a normal-sized woman.' She wore a large, flowing white cotton shirt from the 1647 range, a shirt she'd designed herself. Not fashionable, but certainly stylish. She was planning the launch party for her new designer range, to be held at Liberty. 'In midnight blue and sensual chocolate,' ran the press release, 'a wonderful micro fabric caresses the body. Long slim pants and skirts echo the undercurrents that all women demand, of private pleasures and hidden delights.'
    We talked about the prejudices suffered by her potential customers. 'You're still allowed to abuse fat women,' she said. 'Society frowns on racism, but not on abusing fat people.' Then we talked about the broader picture, about how women's magazines have an economic need to make their readers feel insecure, because they are funded by advertising for products that compensate for this insecurity cosmetics, perfumes, hair products. And almost all the magazines advertise liposuction operations. Making women feel fat is sound economic sense.
    Teague said she believed that all of this was true. 'But I don't want to say it in public,' she said. 'My views are very radical, but they're incompatible with a consumer attitude.'
    Then she told me about the state of the market in fat women's clothes. The market, basically, was there for the taking. `If you look at market research,' said Teague, 'you'll see that slim women buy lots more clothes than larger women. A slim woman might have ten skirts. A large woman of the same age will have three. There's no imagery aimed at big women. The images don't work for them; they're not seduced. They can't buy into it.'
    Teague, therefore, wanted to create images which would seduce fat women, images which, as she put it, 'make it acceptable for older and bigger women to send out sexual signals'. And this, of course, is terribly difficult. You have to be subtle. If you want women to buy things, you have to make them feel dissatisfied with what they've already got. You have to play with their insecurity. But you have to be careful with fat women. They're easy to scare off. You mustn't remind them that they're fat.
    Then I asked Teague if I could attend the launch party for her new designer range, and bring a photographer with me. `You can come,' she said. 'But I wouldn't want you to bring a photographer. It's a difficult situation. You're writing about fat issues. And I don't really want French and Teague to be associated with all that. I want to keep it separate.'
    Hold on, I thought. She wants the world to accept fat women without prejudice. She's designed a range of clothes to make these fat women feel glamorous. But she wants to avoid associating her clothes with fatness. So even here, right at the centre of the world of Fat Acceptance, fat is a dirty word.
    Teague said, 'We're trying to sell clothes, not ideas.'
    Then she said, 'Leave the arguments to professional intellectuals. I would never contradict them. But what do they come up with? They're not coming up with anything new. I've been hearing these arguments for twenty years.'
    Then she said, 'What we need is beautiful images. To get resources, you need to be appealing.'
    The Private Pleasures, the Hidden Delights
    I went to the French and Teague fashion show at the department store. It was a big enough attraction to fill one floor of the building with people. Many, but not most, were large-sized women. The women drank champagne and talked positively. It was a great thing that, at last, they could have designer clothes. Here, on racks, were the soft, velvety ensembles in midnight blue and